AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK.
Andy Cross ran for several blocks after leaving Charles Shotmore and
Robert so unceremoniously. Then he turned into a large office building
and took the elevator to one of the upper floors.
Here he felt himself tolerably safe from pursuit.
He stood at a hall window, which overlooked the street, and gazing down
saw a friend walking along on the opposite sidewalk.
"Jim Huskin," he murmured. "I wonder if he has anything new on?"
Feeling that Shotmore and Robert must have given up the pursuit by this
time, he descended again and hurried after the man he had recognized.
"Hullo, Jim!" he said, as he caught the other by the arm.
Jim Huskin started, half fearing that it was a detective who had
accosted him, for he was wanted for several petty crimes--indeed the
two rascals were well matched, and had committed many a wrong deed
together.
"Andy!" replied Jim Huskin. "How are you?"
"Nothing to brag of," answered Andy Cross.
"Then you haven't been striking it rich lately."
"On the contrary, I've had mighty poor luck. Have you got another
cigar, Jim?" He said this for Huskin was smoking.
"No. I got this out of a gent at the Palmer House. I tried to work him
for a loan, but it was no go."
"Then I reckon you haven't any more money than I."
"I've got a quarter," answered Jim Huskin, frankly.
"You are exactly five cents richer than yours truly."
Both sharpers laughed at this. With them it was "easy come, easy go,"
and temporary poverty did not bother them.
"Perhaps I am five cents richer," went on Jim Huskin. "But I owe my
hotel three weeks' board."
"It's a wonder they let you stay that long."
"I've got a well-filled trunk in my room." And Huskin chuckled and
winked one eye.
"Filled with bricks, eh?"
"No, paving stones--although they are about the same thing. Say, when
the hotel keeper opens that he'll have enough to build on another
addition."
"He won't build it on to accommodate such guests as you."
"I don't suppose he will--and I don't care."
"I am behind two weeks with my landlady. She's sharp after me--but I
don't care. I can't go back, even if I wanted to."
"Had a falling out with somebody?"
"Yes. One of the boarders got a money order and I tried to get it
cashed for him."
"And it didn't work, eh?"
"No, it didn't--and what's more, the man and a boy came close to having
me arrested. I'll tell you what, Jim, I would like to get that boy in
some spot where I could go through his pockets."
"Has he got much?"
"He's got a good silver watch, and I saw him cash money orders at the
post office amounting to one hundred and fifty dollars."
"Phew! that would make a nice haul. Where is the boy?"
"I don't believe he's far off. I left him near the post office."
"Why not look him up?"
"He would recognize me and make trouble."
"Then point him out to me, and I'll see what I can do."
Andy Cross was willing to do this, providing Jim Huskin would "whack
up" with anything which was netted from the proceedings, and the pair
sauntered the way Cross had come.
"There he is now!" cried the sharper presently.
He pointed across the street to where Robert was walking, bound for the
place where Herman Wenrich lived.
"You are sure that's the boy?" asked Huskin.
"I am positive."
"Is the money in his vest pocket?"
"I think he put it in his breast pocket."
"Then I'll soon have it from him, providing I get half a chance."
"You've got to be careful. He's a smart customer, I can tell you that."
"I've never met the boy or man I couldn't work--if I had half a show,"
returned Jim Huskin confidently. "What will you do, follow me?"
"Yes. If you can corner him and want assistance, whistle, and I'll do
all I can," added Andy Cross.
So it was arranged, and a moment later Jim Huskin crossed the street
and placed himself at Robert's heels.
By this time the boy was close to the river, and crossing the bridge at
the foot of the street, he hurried on in the direction where the old
lumberman resided.
"I wonder if he lives over here?" thought Huskin. "If he does I must
tackle him before he reaches home."
Several blocks were passed, and Robert came to a halt on a street
corner.
As he did so Huskin stooped down and pretended to pick up a
handkerchief.
"Excuse me, but you dropped your handkerchief," he said, holding out
the article.
Robert felt in his pocket.
"You are mistaken, the handkerchief is not mine," he answered.
"Is that so? Why, I was sure you dropped it." And Jim Huskin appeared
much surprised. "It's a pretty good article," he continued. "I guess
I'll keep it."
"You might as well--if you can't find the owner."
"I once had a funny thing happen with a handkerchief," went on Jim
Huskin, as he ranged up alongside of Robert when the boy started off
again. "A lady dropped hers in a street car. I picked it up, and as I
did so, out rolled, what do you think?"
"I'm sure I cannot imagine."
"A set of false teeth. The lady had been wiping her mouth and the
teeth had dropped into the handkerchief. Maybe both of us weren't
embarrassed. The lady got as red as a beet, and left the car at the
very next corner." And Jim Huskin laughed loudly. "A good joke, wasn't
it?"
"Perhaps for the others in the car; not for the lady," answered Robert,
yet he could not help smiling.
"Live down this way?" asked the sharper carelessly.
"No, I am a stranger in this part of Chicago. I am looking for Grandon
street."
"Grandon Street. I can take you there easily enough. I own property on
that street."
"Do you? Then perhaps you can take me to number 238--that is, if you
are going there now."
"Yes, I was bound there--to see one of my tenants who talks of moving.
Number 238 is less than a block from my houses. I think the Nelsons
live at 238,--or is it the Romers."
"I am looking for a man named Herman Wenrich--an old lumberman from
Michigan."
"Oh, yes, to be sure. I know him fairly well. Doesn't he live in the
house with the Nelsons,--or maybe it's next door?"
"I don't know who he lives with, or if he lives alone. He is a stranger
to me. I want to see him on a little business."
"And you have never been in this part of Chicago before?"
"No."
Jim Huskin turned his head to conceal a smile. "I reckon I can lead him
where I please now," he thought. Then he looked back, to see Andy Cross
following them at a distance of less than a block.
Several squares were covered, and Huskin took Robert around a corner
into a street which was little better than an alleyway.
"This is a short cut," he said. "The street is all torn up a bit
further on, and unless we go this way we will have to walk several
blocks out of our way."
"Any way will suit me," answered Robert. "Only I may have some
difficulty in finding my way back."
"Not if you take the street two blocks to our left."
As they entered the alleyway Jim Huskin began to whistle a lively air.
It was the signal for Andy Cross to draw closer.
"I always whistle when I get here," explained the sharper, glibly,
as he stopped for a second. "I was born and brought up in this
neighborhood, and the scene takes me back to my boyhood days."
Robert was not favorably impressed by the surroundings. On one side
of the alleyway were a number of deserted tenement houses, and on the
other the high brick wall surrounding a factory yard. "He must have
been pretty poor to have lived in one of those shanties," thought the
boy.
"In those days these houses were well kept, and where the factory
stands was a pretty open lot," said Huskin, as if reading his thoughts.
"Everything is changed now. Will you mind my stopping at one of the
houses for a minute? An old negro lives here, and I want to see if he
is sick."
"All right."
Jim Huskin entered one of the tenements, to find it as he expected,
deserted.
"Say, just look here a minute!" he cried, coming to the front door.
"What do you think is the matter with this poor fellow?"
Wondering what was up, Robert advanced and entered the hallway of the
tenement.
The light was poor, and for several seconds he could see but little.
"I don't see anybody--" he began, when, without warning, Jim Huskin
leaped upon him and caught him by the arm and collar.
"Give me that money and your watch!" he cried, harshly. "Give it to me
instantly, or it will be the worse for you."